Soldiers At Heart
by Dakota-Jones
Summary: NYC, 1899. At peace with the world...naaah. Back up, delete, change. How will the newsies deal with a sudden and ruthless invasion by a foreign army? They'll have to deal...cause the city of NYC is depending on them...Completed!
1. Invasion

AN: I'm back in the suspense game! And man, is my next idea crazy or what…

This story may have more morbid elements than my other suspense pieces, but I always make the same promise- I'll take care of things. Trust me.

Oh, and all you history buffs? Turn back now. I mean it. Cause every single historical figure is going to be rolling over in their grave when I write this, and I don't even like history, so don't expect accuracy. This is strictly a 'back up and change history to have some fun' thing.

Summary: It's 1899, and New York City and the US are at peace with the world…naaaah. Back up, erase, delete. And definitely forget your history book.

The German army invades major cities all over the US, NYC being one of them. And now the Newsies are in a race for their lives. Not only that, but the survival of the entire city depends on them and them alone…

Blink

            "Hey, Crutchy. How's sellin?"

            Crutchy looked up from where he was sitting on the steps of a store, counting his remaining papers. 

            "Only four more ta go."

            I nodded, and Mush and I sat down beside him, relaxing our feet after a long day of selling. The evening edition hadn't gone fast- there were no good headlines tonight. But at least it was a comfortable temperature- an August evening, not too hot, not too cold. 

            Crutchy stood up and started hawking the headlines again, making up some crazy headline about the mayor having an affair. He got down to one pretty quick- he could usual sell a whole lot faster than the rest of us, being a gimp and all. Even faster than me when I work on people's sympathy. 

            "Man…this has been one lousy day." Mush said, leaning back on the steps.

            I lit up a cigarette and shrugged. "Couldn't get any worse."

            Mush raised an eyebrow and sighed. "Every time you say that, it gets worse."

            "Does not!"

            "Does too!"

            "Does not!"

            A shriek suddenly cut through the air, and I looked up just in time to see a man on horseback shooting down a woman as she ran from him. I froze up in shock- that guy had just shot down a woman?! What was wrong with him? 

            Three more horses turned the corner, the men on their backs all carrying an arsenal of guns and knives and dressed in uniform. I jumped to my feet, but I still couldn't make sense of this. Who were these guys?

            People began scattering from the streets as more shots rang out, and I looked at Mush, who had completely frozen up. I could see it in his eyes that he was just as scared as me.

            "Kid…"

            Mush didn't have a chance to finish. 

"Hey you! Come here!"

            I turned toward the sound of the voice, and one of the men was right behind me, beckoning me over. I tried to say no, but I couldn't find my voice. I just stood my ground, and he urged the horse forward toward me.

            And quite suddenly, I had the muzzle of a gun in my face.

            "You should do what you're told, boy."

            Just before he pulled the trigger someone stepped in front of me- Mush. But my fear for him was pushed aside as instead of a loud 'bang', there was a sharp sounding 'click'. He was out of ammo. All three of us took off running, and Mush and I slowed our pace so Crutchy could keep up. The soldier was busy reloading his gun as my mind raced. 

            _We're gonna get shot, right in da back. This ain't gonna work, I thought frantically, and then I heard the gun go off again and I dove for the ground, taking Mush and Crutchy with me.  I stumbled to my feet and helped Crutchy up, and then I shoved Crutchy into the alley beside us. There was no way he could outrun those guys, so Mush and I needed to get him out of the soldier's crosshairs._

            Mush and I took off in the opposite direction, and soon we were lost in the pandemonium of the frantic crowd. Soldiers on horseback were everywhere, seeming to be shooting people down for no reason whatsoever- more than once I stumbled over a body or slipped in a pool of blood.

            "I told you so! See, it got a helluva lot worse!" Mush yelled at me, and I just growled. It wasn't like it was my fault.

            "Where are you going?" One man asked, pulling his horse in front of us. I recognized the thick accent immediately- these people were German. Mush and I skidded to a stop- well, I did, anyway. Mush ran into me, practically knocking me into the horse.

            "Just home, sir." I said quickly, hoping this guy wouldn't decide I was worth shooting. Mush stood behind me, breathing hard and ready to take off. The man studied us carefully.

            "And who is this?" he asked, gesturing to Mush. I stuttered a moment- I had to come up with something creative, and I had to do it fast. If I didn't say something distinct, he may just shoot Mush for the sole reason that he felt like it.

            "He's my…um…he's my caregiver. Ya see, I gots this nasty disease…"

            I doubled over and went into a coughing fit, and the German officer recoiled in disgust. He muttered something in German as Mush gently helped me stay upright.

            Mush saw his opportunity. "I'm sorry bout dat, sir. See, dis disease, it's very contagious, and he's gotta get home to avoid infectin' others."

            The German officer turned up his nose. "Get home, you street trash. And stay there."

            "Yes sir."

            As soon as he turned and rode away, Mush and I took off again. We knew Crutchy would've gotten to Tibby's by now, if he had taken our hint, shoving him into the shortcut. Couldn't get much more obvious than that. Most likely other newsies would be at Tibby's finishing their supper, and they'd be able to help him.

            Mush and I both knew where we had to go without saying a single word. We had to get back to the lodging house. That's where all the other newsies would go, and we could regroup and decide what to do there. Cause none of us could manage this alone.

            I couldn't take it anymore, though. I had to talk to Mush, and it had to be now. I stepped into a vacant doorway, pulling Mush with me.

            "Mush…if that guy hadn't been outta ammo…" I stuttered, and Mush just looked down at the ground. "You woulda died for me."

            He didn't say anything. He just got this small smile on his face, and punched me in the shoulder.

            "That's what friends is for, Blink. I woulda taken that bullet for you any day."

            I was at a loss for words. I didn't know what to say. I pulled him into a hug, wondering what I ever did to deserve having him as a friend. A brother. A selling partner. A confidant. God, he'd done so much for me already…now this. I'd never be able to repay him.

            The sound of more guns firing brought us back to the present, and we took off again, heading for home.

Jack

            As soon as the shooting started, I knew I had to get to David's. Today was his first day back in school, so I hadn't seen him all day. I had to make sure he was alright.

            I ran to David's apartment building, luckily not getting shot along the way. I tried to stay unnoticed, and it seemed to work on the way there, at least. But when I got there, I almost wished they had caught me.

            There were people lying dead in the hallways, and I could hear the sound of horses' hooves on the floors above. They were going systematically through each floor, killing everyone they saw. I made sure the coast was clear and then I ducked into the apartment.

            "David! David, are you here?"

            "Jack?!"

            I ran to David's room, and there he was, huddled in the corner with Les right beside him. He was beat up pretty bad, but Les seemed okay.

            "Are you alright?" I asked, helping him to his feet.

            "I think so…they took Sarah."

            _Big deal, I thought, even though I let concern shine through on my face. There was a very good reason I'd broken up with her, and the fact that she'd been taken away by the Germans brought one pinpoint of light into the horrible day._

            "What about your parents?"

            He didn't have to say a thing- I knew just from the look on his face that they were dead.

            "Come on. Let's get back to da lodging house…that's where everyone will go anyways."

            We headed out onto the fire escape, and suddenly bullets started hitting the metal bars around us. We looked down, and there were four men down there, pointing at us and shooting. 

            "Back inside!" I yelled, pushing David back through the window. We took the stairs down and got outside, and I suddenly saw something that scared me to death- Itey lying on the sidewalk, his papers soaked with his own blood.

            "Itey!" I yelled, running to his side. He looked up at me, but his eyes seemed glazed over and unfocused.

            "Jack…" He started weakly, and I saw the source of the problem. He'd been stabbed in the side. I pulled off one of my shirts and pressed it on the wound, praying to God that it hadn't been a long knife.

            "Itey, listen to me. Stay awake." I said as I tied the shirt around him. He nodded, but I really didn't think he understood. He was fading fast. I gently picked him up and David helped me keep him awake as we made our way back to the lodging house.

            When Itey came, I'd promised him that I'd protect him. He wasn't made for the streets, at least not mentally. 

            I'd made him a promise. And now I hadn't kept it.

Specs

            I never knew Dutchy spoke fluent German. Of course, we all knew he was fluent in Dutch, but German? Never would have guessed it.

            He stopped a German officer- one that was _our age_- and began speaking to him in German, and I could tell they were fighting about something. Dutchy was yelling at him, and I began to get nervous. This guy had a gun, and Dutchy was yelling at him? Dutchy _never yelled!_

            The officer jumped off his horse, and suddenly Dutchy grabbed him back the back of the head and gave him a strong headbutt. My mouth dropped open in shock as the guy fell unconscious and Dutchy began stripping his clothing off of him.

            "What are you doin'?" I asked, and Dutchy looked around before he completely switched outfits with the poor guy. I suddenly saw the logic- Dutchy could speak German, and now he was wearing a German officer's uniform.

            Oh, yes. This could be good. Very good indeed.

            Another German officer turned the corner on foot, and before he could say anything, I punched him in the jaw. As he fell I hit him on the back of the head, and he was out like a light.

            "Put on his uniform." Dutchy ordered.

            "But I can't speak German!"

            "I'll cover for ya. They'll make me kill you if you aren't wearing dat."

            Okay, that convinced me. I certainly didn't want to end up dead today. I switched clothes with the officer and we dragged the unconscious men into a raided shop and tied them up in the broom closet.

            "Where to now?" I asked as Dutchy grabbed the reins of the horse that the first officer had been on.

            "Jump on."

            "I've nevah ridden a horse before."

            "Neither have I. I guess ya kick 'em and dey move."

            He jumped onto the horse and then reached down and helped me up, and I shifted nervously as the horse stamped its foot.

            "Let's get to da lodging house." Dutchy said, and then he gave the horse a good kick. It lurched forward, and I wrapped my arms around Dutchy's waist to avoid being thrown off the back end. It wasn't exactly a smooth ride- I didn't get what Race saw in these things.

            Of course, Dutchy picked up on it real fast, and soon he relaxed and didn't seem to have any trouble at all. He saluted as we passed other officers, and I just held on- they didn't seem too phased by the fact that I didn't salute. I guess his salute made up for my lack of one.

            "Dutchy…are we there yet?"

            "No."

            "How much longer?"

            "Whatsa mattah, Specsy? You scared of da horse?"

            "No!"

            He laughed, and then he said, "Five minutes, at most. Just hang in dere." 

            I gripped him tighter and tried to imagine that I was elsewhere, anywhere except riding through the slums of NYC expecting to be shot down any second. I could only hope and pray that Dutchy knew what he was doing.

            Another officer stopped us and spoke with Dutchy for a moment, eyeing me carefully. Dutchy gestured to me and said something, and then both he and the officer laughed, and we were allowed to pass.

            "What did you say about me?"

            "I said you was scared ta death of horses."

            "But I'm not!"

            "Yes you are. You's shakin' like a leaf."

            "Yeah, so?"

            "So, usually that implies dat you's scared."

            I mumbled a bit, tempted to bite him. He was driving me nuts!

            But then again, he was the one holding the reins. And this thing definitely wouldn't listen to me. It'd probably throw me off and trample me.

            Wait a second. I _was_ scared of horses!

Spot

            "Spot!"

            I spun around as I heard my name, and Race ran up to me, completely out of breath.

            "Are they in Manhattan too?" I asked, and he nodded.

            "They're all over. I can't find any of da newsies."

            "Stick with me. Let's head back to Manhattan. I've gotta find Jack."

            We hadn't taken two steps before an officer was in front of us, his gun out and ready to fire.

            "Go to your home, children." He ordered in broken English.

            Race and I looked at each other, and we both knew what the other was thinking.

            _Nobody tells us what to do._

            We ran around the horse and down an alley, and I turned around and knocked over a few crates so the guy couldn't follow us. Bullets flew by us, and that made me mad. Really mad. Who shoots at kids who were weaponless? Cheap people. And I didn't like cheap people.

            I turned around and let loose a few stones with my slingshot, ignoring Race's cries of protest. I managed to hit him with one, and after a string of German curses, he had his horse jump the crates. 

            "Run, Race! GO!" I screamed, and Race took off out of the alley. But another officer suddenly blocked the other end of the alley just after Race got out, and I was trapped, with two guns pointed at my head.

            I saw Race turn around and start to run back, but I couldn't let him get himself killed.

            "Race, I said run! Go find Jack!"

            He hovered for a moment as the officers spoke to each other, and I began to panic as one of them turned his horse to go after Race.

            "GO!"

            Race turned and ran, and the next thing I knew, everything went black.

Snitch

            I was trapped. I had three German guys on horseback around me, and right now, they were talking in German and laughing. Probably deciding what to do with me.

            One of them jumped off his horse and knocked the papers out of my hands, and I knew I couldn't do anything about it. If I made one wrong move, they would shoot me. 

            He had a smug smirk on his face, though I wouldn't know why. I was helpless. He couldn't possibly think he was achieving anything by intimidating me when he had weapons and I didn't.

            "Can you speak German, boy?"

            I shook my head, and he suddenly pulled his fist back and punched me, right in the jaw. I staggered but didn't fall, and I could taste blood inside my mouth. 

            "Your answers will always be followed with 'sir'." He hissed, grabbing me by the shirt collar.

            "Leave him ALONE!!!"

            The German officer was suddenly pulled back off of me and spun around, and then he fell to the ground, clutching his face and letting out a string of what could only be German curses. And there stood Skittery, shaking out his hand and looking as pissed off as I had ever seen him.

            The officer stood and faced Skittery, both of them unwilling to break the stare.

            Skittery made a sound that I could only interpret as a growl. "You touch him again and I'll beat you so hard you won't remember your own mudder's name."

            "Who are you, his boyfriend?"

            The German officers that had gathered around snickered, but the off-beat question didn't phase Skittery at all. "No, but I bet you wish you was."

            The entire group fell silent. Every German soldier nearby looked floored. I guess usually people didn't have the guts to insult this guy- and especially not refer to him as gay.

            The officer suddenly began circling Skittery, as if he were sizing him up. "You're much too feisty for your own good." He said, taking out his knife. He suddenly leaned forward and whispered something to Skittery, and Skittery's eyes widened as he recoiled in what appeared to be disgust and horror.

            He threw another punch at the officer, this time missing his mark. He was getting carried away on emotion, and it was making him a whole lot less effective. The officer grabbed him by the shirt, dropped the knife, and then punched him in the gut and shoved him away.

            I ran to Skittery as he doubled over and sank to his knees, trying desperately to breathe. But then two other officers came forward, and as the main officer barked out orders, they shoved me back and grabbed onto Skittery, tying his hands behind his back.

            "Say goodbye to your friend. You won't be seeing him again." The officer said, the smug smile still on his face.

            "No! SKITTERY!" I screamed, trying to run after them- but suddenly I was restrained from behind. Another German officer had a grip on my arms from behind, and at first I thought he was going to take me as well.

            "Don't follow. They will shoot you." He said softly, and I sank to the ground as I saw them taking my best friend away. I felt dry sobs begin to course through my body; I was crying so hard that tears wouldn't come.  

            "Oh, God…Skittery…"

            The officer knelt beside me, laying a comforting hand on my shoulder. "My name is Gunter. I'll help you. I know where they will take him."

            I looked up at him, trying to figure out if this was some type of cruel joke. But the only thing I could see in his eyes was sympathy and concern.

            "But you…you're one of _them_."

            "Your friend is a hero. I respect him for what he did. Besides…I never did _want to be in this anyway."_

            By now, Skittery's captors had disappeared around the corner. It was my fault he got caught. That meant it was my job to get him out.

            "What can we do?"

AN: Suggestions? Comments? Please review!

Oh, and I've been having major computer problems, so my updates may come at strange times…like three chapters at once and stuff like that…cause getting on the internet is a blessing from God right now, till we get it fixed. Which should be soon.


	2. Guiding the Enemy

AN: For right now, no authors notes…just read on…

Oh, I almost forgot. For any German buffs out there, for one thing, the name 'Gunter' usually has umlauts over the 'u'. But I just don't know how to do it, so we'll pretend. And I'm not writing in the German accent because I'm not good at it. So that's that. Let's move on.

Oh…and for all you overly-sensitive people…this chapter may get a teensy bit graphic. I can't say anything more without giving away a major 'surprise and shock the reader' part. So just use your imagination and your own judgement.

Skittery

            They took me to the one place I never would've guessed- Pulitzer's mansion. They had turned the place into some kind of headquarters, basically a fort. In a matter of minutes I was tied up and sat down against the wall of a room on the third floor.

            "Ya lousy bums! I'll soak ya!" 

            Wait a second…I recognized that voice. But it couldn't be him…it just couldn't be.

            Spot Conlon himself was suddenly shoved into the room, his hands already tied, and the door slammed shut behind him. He shouted a few more curses at the closed door, and his eyes widened when he turned and saw me.

            "You too?"

            I nodded, and he sank down beside me, breathing hard as he leaned back against the wall. For a moment he just caught his breath, and then he turned his head to look at me again.

            "What'd ya do?"

            "I punched one of 'em."

            "What'd ya do that for?!"

            "Cause he hit Snitch."

            He started to say something else, but the door opened and the officer who I'd punched walked in. He sneered at me, and then gestured to the guards and said something in German. I was yanked to my feet and pulled into an adjoining room, and then they sat me down in a huge, wooden chair.

            The other soldiers walked out and the officer stood in front of me, a knife in one hand.

            "You still wanting to fight?" He asked, and then he stabbed the chair in-between my legs- and very close to a muscle I'd very much like to keep.

            "Bastard."

            "I could've made that a whole lot closer. Care to try me?"

            "Love to. But if I'm goin' ta hell, I guarantee, I's takin' you with me. One way or anudder."

            He suddenly grabbed me by the chin and pressed his lips to mine, and after the initial shock, I bit down as hard as I could. He jerked back, his lower lip now dripping with blood, and I spit on his well-polished shoes. Cigars and vodka…exactly the taste I needed in my mouth right now. Yuck.

            "Like I said before, you are feisty. Much too feisty." He pulled the knife out of the wood, and I waited for him to kill me. I expected it. But instead he strolled around behind me, and then he pressed the blade against my throat, his stale breath on my neck. "I told my men that you would agree to wear a German uniform and help us."

            I didn't speak. I was afraid to. The cool metal pressed against my jugular was enough to make me think twice about uttering a sound.

            "So what's your answer?"

            Oh, so he actually wanted an answer? I'd give him an answer.

            "You'd have ta slit my throat to get dat uniform on me."

            He laughed, grabbing me by the hair and pulling my head back. "And what about your friend in the other room? I noticed that you two knew each other."

            "You cheap, fucked up-"

            "Hold that…do you really want to insult me when I could order him killed in a snap of my fingers?" he let go of me and pulled the knife away, and I started breathing again. He suddenly knocked twice on the door, and a soldier walked in, carrying a uniform in his hands. The officer stood me up and cut the ropes off my hands, and then he shoved the uniform into my arms.

            "You're going to be our little hostage…and our guide. You know this city well. You will take us wherever we want to go, and you will do it without saying a single word unless asked. Do you understand?"

            I nodded, and he snickered.

            "It's too bad you were so easily broken. Friends do a number on the conscience, don't they?" He grabbed me by the shirt, and at first I tried to jerk back, but then he raised his hand, preparing to snap his fingers. I could barely contain my rage as his lips met mine again, the coppery taste of his blood filling my senses. He shoved me backwards and walked out, and I felt like just breaking down and crying.

            But I had a uniform to put on.

Dutchy

            We got to the lodging house about the same time as Jack and David, and since the sun had dropped behind the buildings, they couldn't see who we were. I jumped off the horse and ran to them, and I saw the panic on their faces as I approached.

            "Jack, it's me! Dutchy!" I said, and he squinted, studying me carefully. 

            "Dutchy…what are ya doing in _those_ clothes? And who's _that_?"

            I turned around to where Specs was still trying to get off the horse, his foot getting caught in the stirrup on the way down. He hit the ground hard, his left foot still tangled in the stirrup. The horse snorted, seeming amused by this.

            "It's just Specs, Jack. Is Itey okay?" I asked.

"I don't know."

Jack and David headed inside, and I made my way over to Specs and helped him up, shaking my head and laughing.

            "Dis isn't funny." Specs muttered, brushing himself off. 

            "I happen ta think it's hilarious."

            "Just get me away from dat thing."

            I tied the horse up and we went inside, where Jack had laid Itey down on a table in the front room. Itey didn't look so good- David was trying to keep him conscious, but it didn't look like he was going to stay that way for long.

            Jack's expression looked grim. "We're gonna lose him. He needs a doctor."

            "If we go back out there, they'll kill us." David said. Specs and I looked at each other, both thinking the same thing.

            "We'll go find a doctor. You stay here and keep him alive till we get back." I said. Jack raised an eyebrow at me, a gesture of skepticism.

            "And what if one of 'em tries ta talk ta you?"

            I let out a string of German, and Jack's mouth dropped open.

            "You speak German too?"

            "Yep. My mom was Dutch, but my dad was German."

            "Jack…make it stop hurting…" Itey begged, gasping for breath between almost every word. I sprang for the door, and Specs started to follow. I turned around and stopped him, and he gave me a look of pure confusion.

            "I…don't think you should come." I said.

            "Why the hell not?"

            "Well, for one, if you sit just outside and salute passing officers, they'll think you have this district and they won't go into the lodging house. And for another, you might blow my cover, since you don't know German."

            "But…I don't want you to do this alone."

            "I don't _want_ to. I _have_ to."

            I turned to walk out, but Specs grabbed my arm.

            "Don't…don't do anything stupid, okay?"

            I smiled. "You know me."

            With that, I jumped onto the horse and left, and Specs sat down on the lodging house steps.

            I would've given anything to not have to do this alone.

Bumlets

            Race and I made out way through the alleys of Manhattan, hiding from passing soldiers and moving only in the shadows. He was distraught over what had happened, but I managed to convince him that there was nothing we could do until we found the others. Two of us couldn't act alone. 

            "Stop! Stop right there!"

            Two horses pulled up in front of us, and we decided to stop. Maybe if we just acted civil, they would decide not to shoot us.

            "Where are you going?"

            "Home."

            "Where do you live?"

            Race took over. "Third Street. Not far from here."

            I kept my eye on the second officer, the one that wasn't talking. He was wearing a hat that set low on his head, hiding his eyes from us, and that made me suspicious.

            The first officer stared us down for a moment, and then he turned to the other officer.

            "Are they telling the truth?"

            As the second officer raised his face, the dim streetlight caught his features, and my heart took a flying leap into my throat.

            "Skittery?!"

            The first officer turned and looked at me, and then he smiled. "Oh, you two know each other? You see, your friend graciously offered to help us find our way around the city. Wasn't that awfully nice of him?"

            "Skittery…dat ain't true…is it?" Race asked, stumbling over the words. Skittery didn't answer us; he just swallowed hard and dropped his gaze to the ground.

            Oh, God…it was true.

            Or was it?

            The first officer obviously got bored, because he kicked his horse on, and Skittery followed without question. But just as he passed me, he mouthed three words, and I immediately understood.

            _They'll kill Spot._

            We had to find the others…and we had to find them _now_.  

            Cause I had the feeling that they weren't going to keep Skittery and Spot alive for much longer.

AN: Reviews…must have reviews…


	3. Miscommunications

AN: I'm high on coffee, so please don't be surprised if this chapter follows that. Just read!

Oh, and there will be conversations where Dutchy is speaking in German with someone else. This will be denoted by italics.

Dutchy

            At least the horse was behaving. That would've been the last straw on my already frayed nerves, to have the horse not follow commands. Kick means go, pull back to stop. Steer with the reins. Not that hard, really.

            None of the German soldiers paid me any heed other than to salute. I pretended like I actually knew where I was going, but I heard something that strayed me from my path.

            "BLINK!!!" 

            I knew that voice anywhere. Mush was either in trouble, or Blink was. I jerked the horse to the right and kicked it as hard as I could. It took off so fast that I almost lost my grip and fell off.

            I held on tight as we flew down the alley, and I got to the other side just in time to see an officer slam his fist into Mush's stomach. Blink was lying nearby on the ground, holding his head and groaning. The officers were laughing and jeering about it, slapping each other on the back after each good punch.

            One of them noticed me and saluted, and then spoke to me in German and said something to the effect of 'wanna join in'?

            I could feel the rage pulsing through my veins as another soldier pushed Mush to the ground and kicked him in the ribs, while two others pulled Blink to his feet for more abuse. I couldn't blow my cover, but I had to do _something_.

            I shouted at them in German, telling them that we had a situation downtown and that they were to leave immediately. I told them that I would take care of the two street rats, and they moaned about me having ruined their fun, but they mounted their horses and left, And Blink fell to the ground, unsupported. As soon as they turned the corner I sprang off my horse and ran to Blink.

            "Are you okay?" I asked, and he opened his eyes, briefly seeing the uniform and panicking. I grabbed his arms and held him down. "It's just me! You're safe! Calm down!"

            "D-Dutchy?"

            "Yeah. It's me. You're okay."

            "………Mush?"

            I stood up and walked to Mush, who tried to crawl away at the sight of the uniform.

            "Mush, it's me…Dutchy."

            He looked up and his expression changed to relief as he collapsed onto the ground. He was breathing in short gasps- anything more than that was probably agony after all those kicks and punches to his ribs.

            "God, Mush…how bad are you hurt?"

            "I…don't know."

            Blink shakily pushed himself to his feet and stumbled, and I grabbed onto him and held him up as he wavered.

            _I have to get them back to the lodging house…but what about Itey?_

            If I helped them go back, then I would most likely be sentencing Itey to death in the process. He needed a doctor, as soon as possible. But these two weren't going anywhere by themselves, without help. Come to think of it, these two probably needed that doctor too. 

            I was suddenly struck from behind, and I yelped in pain as I was thrown to the ground. I rolled over on my back only to see Bumlets holding up a large piece of wood, ready to swing it down on my head again, with Race standing not far behind him.

            "STOP!" 

            Blink tackled Bumlets with surprising strength, slamming him into the ground and knocking the weapon out of his grip in doing so.

            "What's wrong with you, Blink?!" Bumlets demanded, not struggling for fear that Blink would go completely postal on him.

            "That's _Dutchy_ you just clobbered, you idiot!"

            Bumlets looked over at me as I sat up and rubbed the back of my head, stars exploding in front of my eyes. That was going to be a bruise. Racetrack ran to my side and helped me up, wide eyed but curious.

            "Dutchy? What the hell are you doing?" he asked, and I groaned.

            "Yeah, nice to see you too, Bumlets…" I muttered, and Bumlets pushed Blink off of him and walked to me. 

            "Are you okay, man?"

            "It's Blink and Mush who need help. Can you get them back to the lodging house for me?"

            "Where are _you_ going?"

            I took a deep, shaky breath. "Itey is hurt. Bad. If I don't find a doctor, he's gonna die. I'll bring the doctor back to the lodging house. Now _go_!"

            Bumlets and Race set to work helping Mush and Blink, and I stepped back onto my horse, kicking it with a vengeance. These people had gone too far. Mush and Blink were two of the sweetest, most harmless people in the world, besides Blink's volatile temper. 

            Nobody messed with them without messing with the whole lodging house.

            The horses hooves smacked the ground at an alarming rate, and I leaned forward, tempted to close my eyes. The horse darted over bodies, danced around other horses without a care, and never slowed down once.

            Specs would've been terrified.

            I, however, was in heaven.

            An officer suddenly yelled at me in German to stop, and I pulled the horse to a skittering halt as the German approached. Three of them.

            "_Where are you going?" _ He asked me, suspicion shining through in his eyes. 

            "_An officer has been injured. I'm looking for a doctor to take to him._" I explained. It was a half-truth, anyway. He stared me down, but I didn't break eye contact. That would've been the biggest mistake of my life.

            "_We have doctors at the base. Take him there._"

            "_Moving him could kill him, sir._"

            He rolled his eyes, and then he motioned to the two officers behind him. He looked at me and explained, "_Our American friend and the lieutenant here will take you to the nearest doctor's office. After the American is done with escorting you, I want him shot. I'll leave that up to the lieutenant._"

            American? I took a closer look at the officer that he had gestured to, but his hat cast a shadow over his face.

            "_Yes, sir._"

            I kicked my horse on, and the lieutenant followed, holding a rope connected to the American's horse. He wasn't letting that guy go anywhere.

            "_Lieutenant?_"

            "_Yes, sir?_"

            "_Let me speak with the American trash._"

            "_You can speak English, sir?_"

            "_Yes. Why, can't you?_"

            The lieutenant looked embarrassed. "_No, sir._"

            Yes! Finally, a stroke of luck! I could talk freely to this American without him being able to know what I was saying! I thanked God as the American's 'leash' was handed off to me and the lieutenant dropped back.

            The American and I looked at each other at the same time, and we both yelped in surprise.

            "Dutchy??!!"

            "Skittery??!!"

            I resisted the urge to hug him, because the lieutenant was watching. I turned the tone of my voice down, changing to a brisk, mean tone.

            "Are you alright? What did they do to you?"

            He swallowed hard, and I noticed fresh bruises all over one side of his face. Someone had been mad enough to hit him quite a few times.

            "They have Spot. They're gonna kill him if I don't follow orders." He said.

            "Yeah, well, we have orders to kill _you_ when our little errand is over."

            "That don't surprise me. Where are we going, anyway?"

            "You're supposed to be taking us to the nearest doctor."

            "Oh…that'd be that way, Dutchy." He said, pointing down a connecting road.

            "I know. They think I'm a German, remember? I had to wait for you to tell me."

            We turned the way he had gestured and the lieutenant followed without question.

            "Why do we need a doctor?" Skittery asked.

            "Itey, Mush, and Blink are hurt real bad. Itey's gonna die without a doctor."

            "Shit."

            "Yeah. My words exactly. I think you need to drop back now. He might get suspicious."

            "Alright."

            "Oh, and Skittery?"

            "What?"

            "I'm sorry."

            "For what?"

            I slapped him hard right across the face, flinging him forward in the saddle.

            "Jesus Christ, Dutchy!!!"

            I handed the rope off to the lieutenant. "_American scum._" I said in German, putting as much annoyance into my voice as possible. The lieutenant gave me a smile of approval, although inside, I was crying.

Spot

            I was bored. My hands were tingling, and I adjusted them in the restraints and sighed heavily. A poker game had started in the room that I was in, and I watched as one of the officers cheated the others out of their money. 

            An officer came in, pushing someone ahead of him and yelling to the other officers. As the other prisoner was tied up next to me, I got a good look at his face.

            "Snitch?!"

            Snitch smirked. "Heya, Spot." 

            "What did you do?"

            His smile broadened even further. "I got an in. And my hands aren't actually tied."

            I shot a look at the officer who had brought him, who was now sitting down at the poker table. He caught sight of me looking at him, and I guess I looked pretty stunned, cause he winked at me as if to say, 'you're in good hands now'. "He's…"

"His name is Gunter. He's on our side." Snitch explained, and then looked around the room. "Where's Skittery?"

            Oh, God. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell him this. I wasn't good at saying things like this.

            "Snitch…"

            Snitch's eyes widened as he looked at me. He knew what I was about to tell him.

            "One of the officers, he…he told me that Skittery is dead. I…I'm sorry."

            Snitch couldn't seem to breath. He began trembling, and he looked up at me with a look that could've killed, it was so emotion-wracked.

            "You….you're lying. He's not dead. _He's not dead_." Snitch hissed, confusion straining his features. I didn't say anything; I didn't know what _to _say.

            "Oh my God…you're not lying…he's dead." Snitch stuttered, the realization hitting him like a runaway carriage. "Skitts…it's my fault…" he said, and then he couldn't hold back. He began sobbing, tears dropping down his face as if he were standing outside in the rain. The Germans looked up from their game, and Gunter suddenly got this look of fury on his face and threw back his chair. He walked to us, grabbing us both by the collars of our shirts and shoving us out of the room.

            He led us down a long hallway to another room, and then he slammed the door and locked it.

            Then, his demeanor changed completely. His dark eyes got a whole lot softer, and he threw an arm around Snitch's shoulder, holding him as he cried and sobbed uncontrollably.

            "Snitch, what's wrong?" he asked, but Snitch couldn't answer. He was shaking like a leaf. He yanked away from Gunter and sank to his knees on the floor, rocking gently as he yanked his hands out of the ties and cried into his hands.

            "It's Skittery. They…from what I know, they shot him." I explained.

            Gunter's expression turned to fury. He looked from me, to Snitch, and then back to me, and then he spun me around and untied my wrists.

            "I'm done with this. We're going to find your other friends, than we're going to take them to the arms storage and give these bastards a fireworks show they won't forget."

            I held back my own tears, cause Spot Conlon doesn't cry. "For Skittery."

            "For Skittery."

AN: I like my little German dude. He's feisty. *hugs Gunter and Skittery*. Yes, these people are cheap, telling Spot that Skittery's dead. They'll get what's coming to them. ^__^

Please review!


	4. Why didn't someone tell me I'm dead!

AN: Sorry it took so long for this chapter. I had a mild case of writer's block. Anyway, here's chapter 4!

Race

            Things were piling up fast.

            We now had three newsies injured at the lodging house, one of them most likely to die within the hour. Spot and Skittery had been taken captive. Things just weren't looking good, but at least Specs's presence in a German uniform kept curious German officers out; all he had to do was salute and they passed on by.

            Jack hadn't moved from Itey's side the whole time, holding his hand, keeping him awake, or at least trying. Itey had been slipping in and out of consciousness for the last thirty minutes. I hated to say it, but I thought we were going to lose him.

            Specs walked inside, followed closely by Snitch and Spot and…a German officer?!

            "Guys, calm down. He's a friend." Spot said, and we reluctantly let him in. 

            Snitch was crying. Sobbing hysterically, rather. He collapsed against the wall, and I turned to Spot.

            "What's wrong with Snitch?"

            Spot avoided the question, and Gunter answered me in clear, fluid English.

            "They killed Skittery."

            The entire room fell silent. I looked right at Bumlets, and he met my gaze with tears in his eyes. We'd been the last to see him alive.

            "I have a plan, if anyone is willing to help." Gunter said after a few moments.

            Jack looked skeptical. "What kind of plan?" 

            "With your help, we can blow up their arms storage. They would run out of ammunition, and they'd be defenseless."

            Mush's eyes widened, and he tried to sit up, but failed. "Blow it up?"

            "All it would take is one match."

            "But…what about Itey? And Mush and Blink?" I asked.

            Gunter looked at the injured newsies, and then he walked over to Itey. Itey was unconscious once again, his breathing hitched and irregular.

            "Someone will have to stay behind with them. But I don't think-"

            He was certainly about that finish up saying that Itey wouldn't make it, but Jack gave him a deadly look, and he cut the sentence short. 

            Jack turned to David. "You stay. You've been through enough today already."

            "But-"

            "No buts. You're staying."

            Blink looked reluctant to stay as well. He got to his feet quickly, but wavered slightly, grabbing onto the table beside him. "Jack, I'm fine. I can help!"

            "No. You'd pass out on the first step out that door."

            So just a few minutes later, Snitch, Specs, Gunter, Jack, Bumlets and me set out for the arms storage, ready to put up our last-ditch effort.

Skittery

            I wondered what exactly Dutchy was planning to do with this German guy. I knew he wasn't getting a doctor for one of the German soldiers- one of the other newsies had to have been injured.

            I got my answer when we arrived at the doctor's office- Dutchy backed his horse up to talk to the German, and then he hit him over the head. I had _no idea_ Dutchy had that much strength behind his fist. The unconscious man dropped off his horse, and Dutchy and I quickly cuffed him with his own handcuffs and threw him into a nearby open basement window. 

            We walked into the doctor's office, and my heart sank. The place had been ransacked, and there was blood all over. Which most likely meant that the doctor was dead.

            A muffled sob from behind the counter suddenly caught my attention, and I walked around it to find a nurse curled up with her knees to her chest, crying but trying to make no sound.

            "Ma'am?"

            "Get away! Get away!" she yelled, holding out a scalpel as if she would stab me with it. A scalpel. Yeah.

            "Ma'am, I'm American. I'm not German. We need your help."

            I guess it was the fact that I didn't have a German accent that convinced her, and she gave Dutchy and I a quick look over and told us that her name was Jessica.

            "It's not us that's hurt. We have a friend who got stabbed." Dutchy explained.

            "Where is he?"

            "At the newsboys lodging house."

            She bit her lip nervously, and then she walked across the room and began digging through the wrecked cabinets, finally producing a small black bag.

            "Take me there."

            So we did. Dutchy simply yelled one word in German at any officers her passed, probably saying 'Medic' or something like that. And we didn't get stopped on the way there.

            David's eyes got absolutely huge when I walked in behind Dutchy. 

            "Skittery! You're DEAD!!!"

            I looked at Dutchy, raising an eyebrow. "Really? I wish people would tell me these things."

            Dutchy snickered. "Hey, don't look at me. I didn't know."

            "Oh dear god…this poor boy." Jessica said, setting to work on Itey. 

            "Where is everyone?" Dutchy asked.

            "Just going out to blow things up. You know, the normal stuff." Blink said with a shrug of his shoulders.

            "What?!Where?"

            "The German arms storage. I don't know where it is. Their German friend was going to show them."

            I walked up and looked over Jessica's shoulder, wincing at the sight of so much blood from one person dripping off the table onto the floor. "Is he gonna be okay?"

            She sighed in frustration. "Maybe. I don't know. It depends."

            Dutchy laid a hand on my shoulder. "Let's go."

            We had a show to get to.

AN: I know, it was really short. The next chapter is going to be a blast…literally…

              
  


	5. Pray for a Miracle

AN: No, you are not dreaming. No, the world hasn't come to a standstill.

Yes. This IS an official update of 'Soldiers at Heart'. I guess you could say I busted down the wall of writer's block, crumbled it up into dust, and blew it all the way to Russia.

So…here it is! Enjoy, cause I know you've been waiting a loooooooooong time!

Blink

            After Dutchy and Skittery had left I tested myself again, taking a short walk across the room as David looked on with his completely disapproving look. Jessica was too busy with Itey to worry about me, and Mush didn't say a single word. 

            "I'm going, guys." I said after a few minutes on my feet, and David's eyes got as big as saucers.

            "You can't leave! You're hurt!" He insisted, but I ignored him, grabbing my hat and putting it on my head. Mush slowly stood, and I shook my head before he even said anything.

            "Mush, you're not coming. No way." 

            "But Blink…"

            "I said _no_."

            "Since when did you become me muddah?"

            I sighed deeply as he gave me that 'look', but I didn't get a chance to say anything before Jessica spoke up. Her hands and clothes were soaked in blood, as was the table Itey was lying on and the floor around it.

            "None of you can leave. He's not going to make it…_someone_ needs to be here with him, and the more, the better."

            Mush swallowed hard, trying to stand and leaning against a chair to stay on his feet. "Don't say that. He's gotta make it."

            "I wouldn't bet on it. He's just…" Jessica stopped, biting her lip and shaking her head. I walked over to the table and grabbed Itey's hand, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

            "I guess…I guess I wouldn't be much help out there anyway." I said, scared by how pale Itey had become. His breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, his chest heaving with each gasp. Little moans and whimpers escaped his mouth every so often, and he had long ago dropped unconscious.

            "Jessica…please tell us there's a _chance_." David pleaded, his voice cracking in mid-sentence. Jessica hesitated, and then gave us a small, forced smile.

            "Do you kids believe in God?"

            I looked from Mush, to David, and then back to her. "We ain't got nothin' else ta believe in."

            "Then start praying…there's always a chance for a miracle."

Skittery

            Those bastards had told all my friends that I was dead. Well…at least for once in my life, someone would actually be glad to see me. And at least I knew that everyone other than Blink, Mush, and Itey seemed to be okay.

            "So…how are we gonna find out where da arms storage is?" I asked Dutchy, and he looked around helplessly.

            "I don't know. If I ask, they'll know I'm not a German soldier."

            "But we can't just wander around New York City till we find it."

            "I know!"

            I shut up after Dutchy snapped at me- he rarely spoke that harshly, and when he did, you knew to shut your mouth before he got really mad. His blue-green eyes flashed with desperation as he pulled his horse to a stop, turning it around and finally putting his head in his hands.

            "I don't know what to do. I just don't know." He stuttered, and I pulled my horse up next to his and grabbed his shoulder.

            "It's okay. Dey know what they're doing. And dey gots an inside contact."

            "Yeah, but…I've gotta find him. Them."

            I snickered at the sudden correction, but decided to go easy on him and ignore it. "Dutchy…you's a whole lot smarter den me. And if you can't figure it out, I sure can't."

            Dutchy looked up at me, and at first his eyes were a hopeless mix of desperation and anguish. I decided to try a different approach…maybe an approach that was a bit more sensitive, but I had to get through to him.

            "You've gotta be there for him. He needs _you_ more than anything right now…and I think you need him just as much."

            That's when it happened: his eyes snapped like switchblades into determination and aggression. He sat up, grabbed onto the horse's reins, and gave the horse a swift kick. I had to hurry to catch up, and by the time we turned a corner, Dutchy yanked the horse into a stop right next to a group of German officers. 

            They began speaking in rapid-fire German, and it quickly escalated into a full-scale argument with many gestures made toward me. I felt my heart leap into my throat as one of the officers pulled a gun, but Dutchy seems unphased. 

            Dutchy pulled his horse back a few steps and looked at me as the officers advanced.

            "Thornton Avenue, the third warehouse on the left." He said. "Go, Skittery."

            "What?! I can't-"

            "Go! Now!"

            For a moment, I was torn. We'd been found out, and if I didn't leave now, we'd both be killed. But if I went, they'd kill him for sure.

            Dutchy saw my indecision, and quite suddenly he reached over and slapped my horse on the rear, and he took off, almost flinging me to the pavement. I recovered my wits quickly, shaking my head in frustration as I bolted away. A few gunshots sounded, and bullets flew past me, but I turned the corner and was in safety within seconds.

            Unlike Dutchy.

            Something had gone seriously wrong back there. Very, very wrong.

Snitch

            Gunter explained the plan on the way there. Jack, Bumlets and Race would stay outside to provide a distraction, while me, Gunter, and Specs would go inside and light the longest fuse we could find to blow that place to high heavens. And believe me…I was ready to blow up every single last one of those damn Germans.

            "I wonder where Dutchy is." Specs muttered with a sigh, holding onto Race's waist with a death grip as the horse calmly walked forward. Nobody answered him- we were pretty sure that with Dutchy's obvious talent in speaking German, he would be able to take care of himself.

            And we were all too consumed by anger and grief to take guesses about the fate of another newsie. 

            I couldn't concentrate on what Gunter was saying. The rhythm of the horse below me was practically the only thing that I felt as my mind drifted. I was trying to remember all the times I'd spent with Skittery, and I was quite suddenly realizing that I really hadn't spent much time with him. He'd always been off on his own, doing his own thing, hawking the headlines alone.

            Did he even know how important he was to us?

            Because as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't change the fact that I'd never told him.

            I could still see that lopsided smile he had, see him laughing that laugh that was barely a laugh at all, more like a bigger smile…I could see the way he crossed his arms when he was upset, tucking his chin down and ignoring the world…hell, I could even still hear his voice. 

            "Snitch! SNITCH!"

            Yep. I could hear his voice. It almost sounded like he was actually there, yelling at me.

            "Snitch…Snitch, turn around!" Race said after glancing back. At first I wondered why Race would play such a cruel joke, but then I heard the sound of hooves on pavement behind me, and I decided to just take one look back. Just one.

            "Ya bum…were you gonna leave me outta da fun?"

            He may as well have been on a pure white horse with the light of heaven shining down upon him. But I wouldn't have cared if he was caked in mud from head to toe.

            I leaped off my horse so fast that I almost fell on my face. I rushed over to him as he calmly dismounted, and I tackled him in a hug, trying to speak even as I cried out of pure joy.

            "Skitts…you was dead! Dey told me you was DEAD!" I sobbed, burying my face in his shirt, taking in everything about him that I could. His distinct smell, his heartbeat, his steady, deep breathing…I had already learned the hard way that my chances to notice simple things like that could end in a flash, and I wouldn't give it up now. I wouldn't take it for granted again.

            "Jesus, Snitch…are you alright?"

            I looked up at him, noting the genuine surprise in his eyes, but I didn't get in a response before the other guys were crowded around in a group hug that we ended up in the middle of.

            "Skitts, do you know where Dutchy is?" Specs asked after a moment, and Skittery slowly crossed his arms and dropped his eyes to the ground.

            "I don't know. We got separated near the distribution center. I mean…they found out he's not German."

Specs

            Against my wishes, everyone decided that we had to keep with the original plan and hope Dutchy made it on his own. They tried to convince me that Dutchy would be fine, that if anyone could make it out of a situation like this, it would be Dutchy. But it was pretty hard to believe, even for me.

            We got to the warehouse, where Gunter managed to get us to a prisoner tent, where we quickly got ready for 'Operation Dutchy'. Yep. I thought it was cheesy, but encouraging on some level.

            And once we felt prepared, we untied all the other prisoners, and we made a jail break bigger than any refuge escape.

            And when Gunter, Skittery, Snitch and I ran for the main warehouse, I couldn't help but check every passing officer in the chaos to see if there were any with intense blue-green eyes, silky blonde hair, and a smile that could brighten any day of war…

AN: Ha! This is the second to last chapter. I don't particularly think this is one of my better fics…but I felt like I needed to finish it anyway. So the last chapter should be up tomorrow.

See that purple (or is it blue?) button down there? Yeah, down, down…a little to the left…okay, there it i. If you press it and type somethin' nice, you get virtual cookies from me!!!!!!!!


	6. Fireworks

AN: Last chapter! WAHOO!

Mush

            David eventually broke down into tears and left the room. I could understand- he'd already watched his parents die, so he probably didn't have the strength to stay by Itey's side through this. But I made myself have strength. 

            I sat down on the opposite side of the table from Blink, taking Itey's other hand in mine and ignoring the look of pity on Jessica's face.

            "Itey…come on, Itey, please…" I begged quietly, trying to ignore the rhythmic drip of the blood hitting the floor. Itey had gone still a few minutes ago, and it was quite hard to tell if he was breathing or not. But his hand was still warm, and from what I knew, that was a good sign.

            Then again, I've never been known for being a fountain of knowledge.

            And after a few more moments, I was sure that Itey was gone.

            "Alright, lemme see him."

            Blink, Jessica and I all jumped in surprise as Spot Conlon himself walked in the door, and he quickly made his way to the table.

            "Spot…I thought you were with the other guys…" Blink stuttered.

            "I turned back. They can handle themselves just fine."

            Spot stood for a moment and shook his head, and then he did something that none of us expected- he gently pulled Itey up to a sitting position, gathering the limp boy up into his arms as best he could.

            "Itey, wake up. Dat's a direct order from a Conlon." He said, his voice steady.

            "I don't think he's up ta takin' orders, Spot." I said.

            "Shut up, ya pansy. He ain't gonna wake up by sweet talk."

            Yeah, I could handle that. Cause when Spot tells you to shut up, you shut up, whether he calls you a pansy or not.

            "Itey, I know you can hear me, ya bum. I said wake up. You aren't dyin' in my arms. Not now."

            "Sir, I really don't think-" Jessica started, but Spot sent her a glare that could freeze hellfire, and then he turned back to Itey.

            "Alright, boy, time for bribes. You wake up, ya get my cane. You's always up for a good sellin' pawn."

            This was getting downright ridiculous. Spot began to whisper to Itey, his voice still firm, but soft enough that we couldn't quite understand him. I was ready to break down and cry, when something caught my eye.

            I almost thought it was my overactive imagination when I thought I saw his hand move. But when I glanced at Blink and saw the same shocked look on his face, I knew it couldn't just be my imagination. A tremor seemed to go through Itey's body, and Spot's voice got a little louder.

            "That's it. Come all the way back. _Wake up_."

            A small groan escaped Itey's lips, and suddenly his eyes fluttered open, glazed over and unfocused but finally focusing on Spot. His breathing began to get a bit more evident, his chest rising and falling, not quite as harshly as before he…well, died.

            "I knew that a bribe would get any newsie back into his right mind." Spot said with a smile, finally looking up at us. I breathed a heavy sigh of relief, and then I was almost knocked to the floor as Blink hugged me tightly, somewhere between laughing and crying with pure relief.

            I watched with wonder as Spot hushed Itey, who had been trying in vain to speak, and then he gently laid him down on the table, taking off his own overshirt and folding it up for Itey to use as a pillow. Spot looked up at us and smirked.

            "Newsies don't listen ta beggin' and pleadin'. Dey listen ta bribes and threats. Thought you guys knew that by now."

            Well…guess I'd have to remember that the next time one of my best friends was on his death bed…I think…

            Spot headed for the door, but when he reached it, he turned around and pulled his cane out of his belt, tossing it to me in one swift movement. I thought that touching Conlon's cane would be kinda like touching the ark of the covenant- death by lightening bolt.

            Spot smirked and shrugged. "Give that to Itey when he wakes up. He earned it."

            Spot hesitated, and then he walked back to the table as I held my breath nervously. And then he reached up and pulled his necklace over his head, the one with the key.

            "The key ta Brooklyn, right here, Itey. No one other than the Brooklyn leaders have evah had it." He said, and then he placed the necklace in Itey's hand and closed his hand around the key. "And if ya live through this one, it's yours."

            With that, Spot left, leaving Blink and I absolutely speechless.

            Because essentially, Spot had just named Itey the "heir to the Brooklyn throne" if he survived.

Jack

            It was absolute chaos. But this time, that was to our advantage.

            But only half of us made it to the warehouse.

            I suddenly caught sight of Les in the madness, and I quickly grabbed Race's arm, and he nodded. We split from the group, and Bumlets soon followed after showing Gunter, Specs, Snitch and Skittery what we were doing. 

            I guess it was inevitable, but we soon lost sight of Les in the mass of people running in all directions. But when I caught sight of him again, I made a point of not losing sight of him again. He was being herded by a few German officers with a big group of recaptured prisoners.

            Suddenly, Race got a look on his face…and I knew he had an outrageous idea. He grabbed Bumlets and whispered something in his ear, and Bumlets's grin grew as he listened.

            "Race…Race, what is it?" I asked, and he just smiled.

            "Just be ready to grab Les and _run like hell_."

            Bumlets and Race ran over to the group, and Bumlets stopped right behind a horse and turned around- not a good idea in the first place- and then he formed a cradle with his hands. Race ran at him, jumped up and used one foot to catapult off of and over Bumlets and onto the horse, grabbing the German guy around the waist. The horse went crazy as the German guy panicked, and the horse reared up, and in half a second prisoners and soldiers alike scattered in all directions.

            I darted in and grabbed Les, picking him up and darting out of the way of the frantic horses. I watched as Bumlets grabbed the German guy and pulled him off the horse, and then Race jumped off and they both ran to us.

            Safe, for now. Now we could only hope that the others had the same luck.

Specs

            We entered the warehouse unnoticed, and I was stunned at how much weapons and ammunition they had in that place. It was crammed everywhere, crates of it piled to the ceiling, with only paths so small that we'd had to leave our horses outside.

            "Where are we going?" Snitch whispered.

            "To the very middle. We'll blow it up from the center." Gunter said.

            Skittery looked uneasy, with good reason. "And just how long will we have to get out?" 

            "About sixty seconds."

            "Please tell me that German seconds are shorter than American seconds." I added, earning an uneasy laugh from our little group of soldiers.

            "Here it is." Gunter said, stopping and pulled out a long cord. He stuck one end of the cord under a stack of crate and unrolled the rest of the cord in the aisle, and then pulled out a box of matches.

            "Hold it right there!"

            We spun around, and there stood a German officer, but that wouldn't have scared me half as much…if he didn't have a gun to Dutchy's head.

            "_Dutchy_!"

            I leaped forward and would've killed that guy with my bare hands if Skittery and Snitch hadn't both grabbed me, holding me back. For a moment we were at a standstill, and tension hung in the air thick as morning fog.

            "Give me the matches…or I blow his head off." The officer said, his eyes locking on Skittery for an extra moment. Obviously those two had an already established rivalry, from the way they looked at each other.

            I turned to Gunter, who stood in indecision, glancing from him to Dutchy. Dutchy wasn't speaking, which was probably a smart move, but he looked more angry than scared. 

            "Just do it." I pleaded with Gunter. 

            Gunter shook his head. "He'll shoot him anyway. Giving up wouldn't save him."

            "_Then he's gonna have ta shoot both of us_." I growled, and Skittery's eyes widened.

            "Don't do it, Specs…"

            "Can you just get this straightened out and give me the damn matches?!" the German officer said frantically, and that's when I leaped at him. But at the same time, Gunter struck a match and dropped it on the fuse.

            The clock had started.

            The gun went off just as I tackled Dutchy, knocking all three of us to the ground. The bullet whizzed by my head, and then the gun went off again, and this time, I felt a blinding pain in my arm.

            "Go! RUN!" Skittery yelled at Snitch and Gunter, and Gunter grabbed Snitch's arm and pulled him into a sprint for the door. The fuse was moving quickly, much faster than I expected. And now that blood was soaking the sleeve of my shirt, I wasn't sure it mattered.

            Dutchy kicked the gun away from the officer, and Skittery grabbed it, lifting it and firing two shots right past my legs. That fast, the officer was helpless, both legs with a hole blown in them. He was screaming in pain as I pushed myself off him with my good arm.

            "Let's GO!" Dutchy yelled, and I tried to stand up, but I slid down to the floor. I was a bit dizzy, and even though the bullet had only grazed my arm, I was still losing a lot of blood. Skittery and Dutchy hadn't noticed until now.

            "Skittery, go!" Dutchy ordered, but Skittery didn't listen. He grabbed my good arm and threw it over his shoulders, and Dutchy slid his arm around my waist and they began to help me to the door, ignoring the screaming and pleading of the crippled officer behind us.

            But we weren't going to make it. There was no way. I was holding them back, making them too slow, and this place was going to blow sky high any second.

            "Guys, just leave me. You're not gonna make it." I insisted, and that's when I got the shock of my life.

            Dutchy grabbed my chin and turned my head, pressing his mouth to mine with an intensity I didn't know he had. Then he grabbed my torso, Skittery grabbed my feet, and they lifted me off the floor and carried me to the door.

            We exited the building and Snitch waved to us from around a corner, and they carried me quickly around to the other side. Now at least we had a few brick walls between us and the imminent blast.

            And then Snitch grabbed Skittery by the shirt, shaking him.

            "You're an idiot! What were you thinking?! I hate you!"

            And with that, Snitch yanked him forward and kissed him, just as the fireworks started.

Race

            That night, the real cavalry arrived. 

            After the invasions, it took a while for the military to get back on their feet, but once they did, the Germans wished they'd never stepped foot on American soil.

            It didn't take long for Itey to recover. And once he did, we just had to say goodbye once again. He was off to Brooklyn, now Spot's right-hand man.

            The President himself came to New York City, and gave Me, Jack, Dutchy, Spot, Itey, Specs, Skittery, and Snitch the highest civilian honor he could. Some kinda fancy medal. I was tempted to sell it…but I decided against that.

            He also made a generous donation to the Manhattan and Brooklyn lodging houses. VERY generous. Let's just say 'lots of zeros'.

            And we're all a whole lot closer. Some of us VERY close. As in, we have three new couples in the lodging house. Snitch and Skittery- that one was pretty much a shock to all of us- Mush and Blink- saw that one coming a mile away- and Specs and Dutchy. It was just somehow…a comfort to see them both happy. More happy than we ever thought they could be.

            And let me tell you about it…for weeks afterward, you didn't hear a single newsie complaining about bad headlines.

AN: It's done! Review, people!


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